


free (like a bird crossing the ocean)

by Marvelgeek42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Non Canonical Immortal, Time Travel, Timeline What Timeline, because there are several, but not in the usual sense, my inner poet came back from vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 01:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvelgeek42/pseuds/Marvelgeek42
Summary: In a sense, Lily is an ocean, changing ever so slightly over time, but generally staying the same, whereas James is kind of like a bird, appearing at her side for a while, then returning to his home.





	free (like a bird crossing the ocean)

The first time Lily sees him is during the battle in Hastings.

She is trying to defend her homeland from the invaders, the Saxons, and he is just suddenly there.

He’s not wearing and armour or anything that could be considered normal. She hasn’t seen anything like that before.

He is gone before she can speak to him, indeed before anyone else even notices him.

* * *

_The first time James sees her is during what seems to be the American War of Independence._

_He’s pretty sure he saw her talk to George Washington at least, so where else could he be?_

_Especially since everyone keeps talking about ‘redcoats’._

_Before he can talk to her, he’s already pulled back to his time._

_He doesn’t forget the girl who looks like she had war in her veins and fire on her head._

_She leaves a strong impression, there is no doubt about that._

_Whoever she is, James wants to meet her again._

* * *

This isn’t the only time she sees this odd man. It takes him a few years, decades even, but he returns, eventually.

He appears in a whirlwind and he’s gone just as fast every time.

But Lily?

She is like a rock. She stays and waits if he ever stays long enough for the two of them to talk.

What else can she do?

* * *

_James tries to reappear in the War, but he doesn’t seem to be able to return._

_He’s surprised when he spots her in the trenches in France instead._

_It has to be her. There can’t be two people like this, no two women whose hair is the blood of fallen soldiers and whose eyes is their hope to return home to their families._

_She belongs here, there is no doubt about that, but she belonged to Washington’s side just as much._

_War is her home._

_James doesn’t know how he knows it, but he is certain that it is a fact._

* * *

Lily spots this man again and again.

He’s not like the others, but not like her either.

He is a leaf that is blowing in the wind, a ship that is following the current of several rivers at once.

He doesn’t follow the rules. Guessing the age he will be when he next appears is like guessing which baby will one day change the world and which will die before it has to show the world what it could do.

She keeps looking for him. He intrigues her.

It takes them a while to talk.

* * *

_He arrives in the midst of a battle, as per usual, every since he first saw her._

_She’s standing in front of him, wearing clothes that he saw in a history textbook—an object he is very familiar with and has been ever since he disappeared in the middle of kissing Sirius back when they were what, fourteen?—an uniform of the side of the Union during the American Civil War. He’s not sure, but he guesses it’s a high position._

_“Hello, James,” she greets him. “Haven’t seen you since Paris.”_

_“Paris?” he asks. He doesn’t think he has been in Paris yet._

_“Back during the Revolution! Barricades are a wonderful place to hide, don’t you think so?” Her eyes twinkle in a way that suggest they weren’t hiding from bullets._

_He blushes, shakes his head, and blinks. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_“Oh, that hasn’t happened for you yet? Don’t mind me then. Have we spoken before, from your point of view?”_

_So she knew? He supposes it only makes sense. She is a constant, of course she would notice any changing variables._

_And he is nothing if not that._

_“No,” James shakes his head. “No, we have not.”_

_“My name is Lily,” she replies with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”_

_“The pleasure is all mine. I’m James.” He chuckles awkwardly when he realizes that she already knew that._

_Lily’s smile widens. “I did the same thing when I first talked to you.”_

* * *

The two of them meet again and again over the span of years and centuries.

James is anything between a teenager and an old man in no clear pattern.

Lily wonders, when he was born and when he dies. She never asks and he doesn’t either.

Whenever they’re together, that doesn’t matter. Both of them live outside of time, even if they do it in completely different ways.

In a sense, Lily is an ocean, changing ever so slightly over time, but generally staying the same, whereas James is kind of like a bird, appearing at her side for a while, then returning to his home.

It works well for them, she is quite sure of that. He wouldn’t continue returning if it bothered him. Or, since he doesn’t always have control over where he ends up, he wouldn’t talk to her.

And yet, Lily can’t help but wonder, if—when—James dies, how will she know? Who is to say that he dies around the time he was born in? Who is to say his grave will be marked, or that he would get one at all?

How would she know when he is dead and gone? There is no way for her to ever discover it with all certainty. And even if she were to stumble across it, he may visit her at the end of the world.

* * *

_There are some things James never talks about with Lily._

_They never talk about where they come from. What shaped them and how they became the person they are now, certainly, yes, but they never speak of places and times._

_They never speak about what is to come, for either of them. He tells her of a few inventions he likes and she tells him of the things his future self told her to tell him._

_Both of them like the surprises this brings. It’s freeing, in a way. They feel like they can make their own choices, as if not everything is written in stone for them._

_Which, in a way, it is, but a fact being true doesn’t consequently mean that they’re comfortable with it._

_They like to imagine they have a choice._

* * *

**_Omake:_ **

Lily meets Sirius over a century after James first spoke to her.

"James told me about you,” she says as a greeting.

Sirius grins. "Only the good things I hope?"

"No." She shakes her head.

She continues when Sirius looks insulted. "You cannot spend over a hundred years on good things alone. When you paint a picture, you want to to be realistic. You want it to show who the person is, not what you want them to be.”

"Ah, so that's why James suddenly became a poet one day.” Sirius scratches the back of his head. “He talks about you a lot as well."

Lily smiles. “I suspected.”


End file.
